Caden’s pierced face—usually impossible to read—was visibly agitated. The scar that ran along his chin was stretched in an unattractive way, the dark shadow around it making the puckered skin appear even more sinister, his eyes a hard steely gray. The large man hadn’t bothered sliding on his coat as they stepped outside, standing in the garage in nothing more than a wife beater, his massive tattoos like sleeves on his bulky arms. Although he’d left his coat behind, he had his weapons of choice—daggers—cradled in holsters under his biceps.
“I need you to do something.” Diskant hated flexing his muscle and calling rank but in some circumstances it was necessary. “It’s not a request.”
“Damn it.” Cade scowled, jaw clenching. “I knew I shouldn’t have come here tonight. I fucking knew it.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Diskant said, somewhat relieved he could trust Cade to do as he asked. Then this entire mess would be behind them. “You’ve drawn the short straw. It’s time to balls-up and claim your prize.”
“Prize my ass.” The big son of a bitch spread his legs shoulder width apart. “Tell me.”
“I need you to play bodyguard. It’s not a long trip. Just a car ride from here to New Orleans.”
“Car ride? Why not fly?”
Diskant almost smirked. He’d asked the same question. It was then Craig reminded him of the horrible things that could happen when air shifted, or turned into a tornado. All possible with the package Caden was protecting.
“She gets airsick.”
“She?” If Caden had hackles, Diskant was sure they would have been raised. “You want me to leave so I can drive a fucking female to New Orleans?”
“No,” Diskant growled the word and took a step in Caden’s direction. “I want you to escort this female—a very important one, I might add—to New Orleans. You need to stay off the radar and avoid any unnecessary attention. The quicker you get her to where she needs to be, the quicker you can get your ass back here.”
“Why can’t someone else do it?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Does it look like I have somewhere I need to be? Explain it to me.”
Damn it. The stupid human always pushed people’s buttons. “I have somewhere I need to be. Sorry, Cade, we’re out of time.”
“You’re not going to tell me anything, are you?”
And that was the bitch of it. He couldn’t tell Caden anything. It was too dangerous. The reckless man needed to keep as much space between him and the female he would be escorting to safety as possible. Physical and emotional distance was important and everyone knew that Caden still mourned his wife, continued to love her.
In fact, Diskant was banking on that very thing.
“Why’s she so important?” Cade asked, impatient and now full-blown bitchy. “Will you at least tell me that?”
“Doesn’t matter.” Diskant shrugged. He’d given his word he wouldn’t reveal what the girl was to anyone. If word got out, supernatural creatures the world over would be scrambling to get their hands on her. “She’ll arrive in two weeks.” Diskant held up a hand when Caden tried to interrupt. “I know that means you can’t go with the pack if they decide to track down leads but I’m considering this a personal favor. Something I’ll owe you for. When you get back I can tell you where everyone is. You can leave to join them immediately. This is just a couple of weeks and few days of your life I’m asking for. That’s it.”
Caden stared at him, eyes narrowed. “Go on.”
“I’m going to arrange for a vehicle, weapons and cash.” At Caden’s arched brow, Diskant added, “You should only have to stop for one night—two tops. I’m not expecting any trouble but it’s never smart to travel with precious cargo unarmed.”
“Precious. Fucking. Cargo?” Caden snarled, not backing down, reckless in the face of danger. “You expect me to stay behind—doing you a personal favor—to haul a female you consider ‘precious cargo’ to Louisiana? I’m not a goddamn babysitter. Find someone else.”
Diskant felt his beasts answer the challenge, fighting for a place in line. “Best shut up while you can,” he snapped. “My mate isn’t in a good mood and I’m not likely to take your shit right now. I told you I’d owe you and this is important. As a member of the pack, that’s more than enough information.”
Caden opened his mouth to speak and Diskant snarled, “If I tell you to babysit, you’ll fucking do it. I’m not asking anymore, I’m telling you. Period. No argument. End of discussion.”
“Whatever you say, boss. It’s not like I can tell you to go fuck yourself.” Caden stepped around him, stomping toward the door to the house. “I’ve had enough of your shifter asses anyway. Always mysterious, sulking around and shit. I could use the break. I’m turning off my cell and taking a few days off. I’ll be back in a week. You’re all driving me insane.”
“Glad to hear it,” Diskant called to his departing back. “Call me in a few days. I’ll give you all the details.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Cade lifted his hand into the air, a middle finger salute tall and proud as he walked away. “Fuck you very much.”
Diskant released a long breath when the door closed and tried to calm his beasts, hoping that he’d made the right decision. He shook his shoulders to relieve the tension in his muscles, counting to ten in an effort to ice his temper. The pack had enough on their plate without worrying about witch business. Emory had to mate his female. The pack was on high alert for Shepherds in the vicinity. And Trey wouldn’t stop bitching about the map Mary had in her bag.
Enough was enough.
He could count on Caden. He knew he could. He brought a human into the pack and had to trust him to make smart choices. Caden would take the female to New Orleans in a couple of weeks, drop her off at her destination and his life would resume.
Even as Diskant tried to convince himself that what he’d done was right, he felt a strange heaviness in the air, something that warned him all was not what it seemed. All shifters had strong instincts, their gut guiding them in the right direction. In this case, what he’d done didn’t feel instinctive at all. Maybe it was the bad timing, or perhaps it was trusting Caden for the first time as a member of the pack.
Why did it feel as though he’d seriously screwed with fate?
Chapter Seven
The doctor inspected the wound on her head, flashed a light in her eyes and gave Mary the all clear. He told her she could take a bath and wash her hair so long as she rinsed carefully and avoided contact with the sutures. The word bath made her insides quiver. It would feel so good to sink into a pool of hot water and relax for the first time in days. She agreed to be extra careful and left Emory in the bedroom as she carried her bag into the bathroom, eager to start filling the large tub. She felt repulsive, sweaty and gross. Her hair had become sticky and tangled and she was pretty sure she was starting to stink.
Yuck.
After she pulled clean pajamas and underwear from her bag, she went to the tub, turned the faucets and got the water good and hot. Steam quickly filled the room, encasing her in warmth. After sliding out of her T-shirt and underwear, she rushed to the bathtub. The water was just right—a slight burn before her skin adjusted. She rested back at the head of the tub, closing her eyes.